Whether by looking at his work or by listening to him talk, two things become immediately apparent about Krzysztof Wodiczko. First, he is an artist driven by a desire for to reveal what we don’t want to see, and second, an individual with a love for creating. The most impressive thing about Wodiczko’s work is that it can be beautiful while conveying the most sober messages about issues such as abuse of labor, the trials of war, or immigrants who live an invisible existence.
One of Wodiczko’s most powerful pieces is “Projection in Hiroshima,” a video and audio installation at ground zero of the Hiroshima atomic bombing. The installation plays audio recordings of Hiroshima victims while also displaying video recordings of the hands of the victims, trembling as the recount their stories, projected onto one of the buildings on a river bank. Even without experiencing the piece first-hand, or even understanding the language spoken by the victims, the piece is moving. Above the river bank, it is almost as if the history of the bombing has been erased from Hiroshima; there is no visible remnant of that day. Although the projection makes up only a small portion of our view from across the river, it succeeds in revealing a past that was painted over with architecture and money.
Another one of his many wonderful pieces is “Guests,” Wodiczko’s attempt to reveal the undocumented immigrants who are taken for granted in daily life. “Who is a European?” Wodiczko asks, himself a Pole. “Who is a stranger, who is a guest? Perhaps we are the guests…perhaps we actually should learn and be mabye somehow welcome by the hosts who are working, taking care of our children, grandchildren, parents, grantparents, who clean our apartments, who cook for us. The piece is a series of silhoutted arches, each with a different individual or set of individuals behind it. These individuals, who although physically present, are often invisble to society.
But just as Wodiczko has made this point, one can look up in his piece and see the figure of a windowcleaner. As Wodiczko explains, “suddenly there is somewhere on the other side, imprinted. Who is that other person? Most likely it is a undocumented worker who is maybe cleaning those windows, standing on scaffolding. As if he was actually invading our space. Of course, he is not invading our space, we feel invaded by that person. So that fear comes with that foggy image, at the same time something else comes, the realization that we know nothing about them.” Even once these individuals are in sight, they are seen as an intruding presence.
Wodiczko’s installations are important because they force the viewer to see what they’d rather not, or what they didn’t realize had been right in front of them. His works are an attempt to save an ever-dwindling societal consciousness in ways that are both beautiful to look at and important to contemplate.
One of Wodiczko’s most powerful pieces is “Projection in Hiroshima,” a video and audio installation at ground zero of the Hiroshima atomic bombing. The installation plays audio recordings of Hiroshima victims while also displaying video recordings of the hands of the victims, trembling as the recount their stories, projected onto one of the buildings on a river bank. Even without experiencing the piece first-hand, or even understanding the language spoken by the victims, the piece is moving. Above the river bank, it is almost as if the history of the bombing has been erased from Hiroshima; there is no visible remnant of that day. Although the projection makes up only a small portion of our view from across the river, it succeeds in revealing a past that was painted over with architecture and money.
Another one of his many wonderful pieces is “Guests,” Wodiczko’s attempt to reveal the undocumented immigrants who are taken for granted in daily life. “Who is a European?” Wodiczko asks, himself a Pole. “Who is a stranger, who is a guest? Perhaps we are the guests…perhaps we actually should learn and be mabye somehow welcome by the hosts who are working, taking care of our children, grandchildren, parents, grantparents, who clean our apartments, who cook for us. The piece is a series of silhoutted arches, each with a different individual or set of individuals behind it. These individuals, who although physically present, are often invisble to society.
But just as Wodiczko has made this point, one can look up in his piece and see the figure of a windowcleaner. As Wodiczko explains, “suddenly there is somewhere on the other side, imprinted. Who is that other person? Most likely it is a undocumented worker who is maybe cleaning those windows, standing on scaffolding. As if he was actually invading our space. Of course, he is not invading our space, we feel invaded by that person. So that fear comes with that foggy image, at the same time something else comes, the realization that we know nothing about them.” Even once these individuals are in sight, they are seen as an intruding presence.
Wodiczko’s installations are important because they force the viewer to see what they’d rather not, or what they didn’t realize had been right in front of them. His works are an attempt to save an ever-dwindling societal consciousness in ways that are both beautiful to look at and important to contemplate.